


Lost Boys

by candycouture



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 21:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candycouture/pseuds/candycouture
Summary: 8 lost boys finding each other in the cold.





	Lost Boys

**Author's Note:**

> The following contains mentions of blood and abuse. It is not graphically depicted, but trigger warnings still apply.

He touched the side of his mouth, and it stung. He didn't need to see his hand to know it was bloody, and it made him nauseous, anyway. Bunching up his too-long sleeves in his hand, he pressed it too his wound, gasping at the salty sting once more, and limped out.  
The night was cold, one of the coldest nights of the northern winter, and he was out, he was fucking _kicked_ out, and he had nothing but a bag of spare clothes and his sketchbook, and a facial wound.  
Kim Hongjoong sighed. His body, his heart, his _everything-_ hurt. Hurt so bad. It wasn't his fault he understood colours and textures more than he understood business and lumbering or whatever it was that his parents said he had to be always doing. It wasn't his fault he wasn't built like a burly bodybuilder. Fuck it, he loved it. He loved his slender he was, how his hands were slick and accurate, he loved how petite he was... so why couldn't his parents?   
He shook his head once. It'd just happened minutes ago. He was kicked out of his house for good. He had to move, he had to go, he had to leave, he had to make sure he'd never be caught alive by the monsters he called his family, or anything really, and he had to make a new life for himself. He had to.  
There was no other way to go.

Choi San looked up, blowing hot breathe out into the cold night of the city. He bit his lip, thinking. It had been an approximate of 30 minutes since he left his home. He had to be far enough, right? He had to be lost enough in the city to be never found again, right? He hugged his jacket closer, growing colder.  
The jacket was the only thing he'd taken with him when he left.  
He remembered clearly how he got it: Being a sad dope in an off-road club, months earlier, where he'd met this... this boy. This small, drunk boy who was dressed in oversized clothes that did such a poor job of hiding his bruises. This slender boy that bad shabbily dyed red hair and the most interesting face. This boy... he'd spoken so beautifully and so passionately, San had forgotten that the planet existed, that they were in a bar, he'd forgotten everything that wasn't him and the boy.  
The drunk boy refused to tell him his name, but did give him the jacket, and left.  
San had tried to search for that face many times, tried to search for that unforgettable feeling of being isolated from the universe, and yet having been sent sprawling into it...  
Just one night and he'd started to sound like a lovesick teen.  
He shook his head a few times, biting his lip once more. Now that he'd left his home, he had everywhere and nowhere to be.  
There was no other way to go.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of the same story with proper editing this time!


End file.
